


Speechless

by witchway



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: College Student Peter Parker, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:00:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24708733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/witchway/pseuds/witchway
Summary: He had only made his move on Tony at all because he thought Tony finally saw them as equals.  Acted like they were equals.  Treated Peter as an equal.  But dammit – he asked Tony for a different position in bed ONCE…  and Tony?  Tony turned off like a light.  Turned cold. Turned hard.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark, Starker - Relationship, Tony Stark/Peter Parker, ironspider
Comments: 2
Kudos: 98





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [silkystark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silkystark/gifts).



“Not tonight,” Peter said firmly, pushing his lover away.

Tony looked baffled, and understandably so. The first time Peter came in Tony’s mouth he had lay insensate in Tony’s arms while the older man lay him gently 

down on the bed, preparing him for what came next. And the _last_ time Peter came in Tony’s mouth he had actually fallen asleep, cradled safely in Tony’s arms, where he slept the whole night.

Not this time. Tony was romantic and tender and gentle, but Peter liked _other_ things than missionary dammit, and there was no law that said he couldn’t ask for it. (Besides, Peter had no idea how long this “partners-with-benefits” thing was going to last. If he didn’t ask for certain things _soon_ he might never get them at all. Tony might change his mind about the sex at any time.) “Sit down. No, _there_ ,” Peter said, pointing.

“Wh… what, what…?” Tony stuttered, looking around at the bed as if he had never seen it before.

“Scoot up. More.” 

Tony opened his mouth, but this time nothing came out at all.

“Close your knees.” Peter spoke quietly, but he was a little irritated. Was Tony Stark, **_THE_** _Tony Stark_ , going to pretend _no one_ had ever ridden him before?

Or was he just surprised that Peter wanted to?

He kept Tony’s eyes in his gaze as he finished removing his pants and boxers. The man wasn’t looking away, yet he continued to sputter. Trying to say words, but failing. Peter was amused, but he didn’t let it show.

Taking a step forward, still looking Tony in the eye, Peter paused a moment, and slowly peeled off his shirt.

He let Tony look. He knew Tony liked to look.

Then he climbed aboard.

He grew even more irritated as Tony stammered. He _hadn’t_ been a virgin when they met, thank you very much. Why was it such a _surprise_ that Peter had an opinion about sex? That he’d speak up about what they’d be doing tonight? He had let Tony take the lead for far too long.

He turned his irritation into aggression now. He hooked one hand around the back of Tony’s head and took a firm grip on his hair. The reaction was very satisfying.

Looking directly into Tony’s eyes, he brought their heads close.

“Slick me up.”

Tony, to his credit, didn’t try to talk this time. He complied, as efficiently as ever. And soon he had (just as always had) Peter gasping as his expert fingers did their work.

But Peter didn’t _whimper_. Not this time.

Instead, he growled.

“You’re going to let me ride you tonight, Mr. Stark….” Wait, that didn’t sound exactly right. “I am _going_ to ride you tonight. I’m going to ride your cock tonight, and you are not going to come until I’m ready. You’re going to let me do _this_ until I come again. You’re going to jerk me off with your hand if I tell you to. Do you understand?”

“I can, can… I… d-do you… I c-can… what, what do you…” Tony struggled, and Peter’s face showed no sign of his inward grin.

He reached behind his back and took Tony in hand. Tony’s gasp was very satisfying. Was this _really_ the first time he had… ? Oh, yes it was. He made a mental note to be in charge of Tony’s cock more often.

Tony sputtered and groaned and faltered and gasped as Peter guided his cock inside. Peter found the sounds immensely satisfying. (He had never actually done _this_ before. Riding yes, but not _that_ part of the riding. He didn’t let it show.)

As he began to move Tony inside him his eyes fluttered close, as they always did at this moment, and he forced himself to keep them open. Forced himself to look into the confounded man’s eyes. Tony was looking up at him, gaping, mystified. As if he were seeing Peter for the first time.

Hooking both hands behind Tony’s neck, Peter began to ride. He was a man of exceptional muscle tone (perks of being a superhero) and relied completely on his thigh muscles, taking pride in the knowledge that those muscles could go on all night. He kept his head as close to Tony’s head, only far away enough that he could focus on Tony’s eyes.

“You… you… you… “

Inwardly Peter took (a little) pity on the older man, first stuttering, now gaping helplessly up at him. He couldn’t deny that Tony was actually a _very_ good lover, an _amazing_ lover, expressive and talented and very generous. With _this_ part, in particular, had always been exceptionally gentle and tender, with Tony intensely watching Peter’s face. When Tony moved inside him, Peter’s eyes would close, but Tony’s eyes stayed open, watching Peter, cataloging every reaction. (And Peter’s reactions were plentiful.) No one could say that Tony wasn’t incredible in bed.

Now, looking at the bewildered man (who had left off stuttering and was only watching wordlessly) Peter felt an overwhelming surge of pride.

Tony Stark, _the_ Iron Man, the cocky CEO of Stark Industries who battered supervillains with cheesy one-liners and legendarily sent press conferences into uproars, _that_ Tony Stark, was currently speechless.

Peter should have taken pity on him, certainly. Should have been sweet. Should have been generous. (He was, after all, falling madly in love with the man.)

Peter didn’t.

Bringing his forehead down to touch the flummoxed man’s forehead, looked directly at his silent mouth, and growled.

“Talk dirty to me.”

* * *

In his defense, Tony Stark had been dreaming about what Peter Parker would be like in bed for a long time. For a _very_ long time. More, really, than had been proper. And when a man thinks about things for a very long time, well, he starts to get very solid ideas about how things are. About what they are like. About how they will be. About how they have been up until now.

The moment Peter took over, the moment Peter told him ‘no,’ Tony _might_ have felt threatened. _Might_ have felt vulnerable. And when Tony felt vulnerable, the masks started folding over him, one by one. 

That night he _might_ have immediately slipped a mask on top of another mask inside another mask altogether. Especially with _this_ kid. This kid that he had only been with a handful of times. This kid that had turned the tables so suddenly. He should have hidden. Hidden away safely behind his Tony Stark ™ smirk and smarminess. Might have successfully salvaged some of his pride. Might have needed to.

He didn’t. Not that night. 

_That_ night? He stammered.

 _That_ night? He gaped.

That night? He knew he was being seen. _And he let himself be seen._


	2. Chapter 2

_“Talk dirty to me.”_

“That beautiful, sweet baby-cock. Your little cocklet feels so good, so precious in my hand. Are you going to come on daddy’s cock, sweet baby? Let me milk this sweet tiny baby-cock while you come for daddy. You’re going be daddy’s good boy tonight, aren’t you baby?”

His mouth clamped on the words. Clamped down do hard he almost bit through his tongue. His throat clenched tight. He closed his eyes and he shook his head.

He would sit still and he would be ridden. But he would _not_ engage his masks now, not even if the boy demanded it. If the boy wanted it, well, he’d just have to go without.

But he did speak. He didn’t know if it would be ‘dirty.’ He’d be lucky if it were coherent. He opened his mouth to say it, he _willed_ his vocal chords to engage and to speak.

“You’re going to come for me,” he whispered. “You’re going to come for me, and then you’re going to tell me where the fuck you come from. Where did that shy geeky science-nerd over-eager Spider-Boy from Queens learn to ride a cock like this? And _where_ the fuck did you learn how to take me apart? I can fuck circles around you, kid, _where_ do you get off making me feel like a fool? Why do you think I’d let you strip off my mask like that? How did you get inside me like that? 

“Ok, you’re _there_ , you’re riding my cock like there’s no tomorrow and now you’re going to come on it. You didn’t collapse into my arms the first time you came and, ok, hard on my ego, but can you do it twice? _Lets see_.

“Come for me, Parker. You came in my mouth, and I _know_ what that does to you. Now come on my cock let’s see you give me orders _then_.”

And Peter obeyed.

* * *

Peter came, but he didn’t come around much after that. Coming in Tony’s arms was hot, and letting Tony fuck into him from that position was hot as well. But when he left the penthouse that night he realized it was all a dead end.

He just wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to explain to Tony _why_.

The truth was, he was hurt, and he mostly blamed himself. His crush on Tony Stark had gone on for so long… maybe… maybe he had just set himself up for failure. He knew he wanted to get Tony Stark into bed. He knew Tony Stark thought of him as a shy, nervous virgin. He knew that Tony Stark was going to _treat_ him like a shy, nervous virgin when he got there and, well hell, that was a price he was perfectly willing to pay.

But dammit, it never occurred to him that Tony NEEDED him to be a shy, nervous virgin. That he had to STAY that way, no matter how many times they had sex. That even after they were “officially dating” he _still_ had to play the part in bed.

He had only made his move on Tony at all because he thought Tony finally saw them as equals. Acted like they were equals. Treated Peter as an equal. But dammit – he asked Tony for a different position in bed ONCE… and Tony? Tony turned off like a light. Turned cold. Turned hard.

And that pissed him off. He still loved the man – dammit he still loved that man so much it made his whole body ache. But Tony wasn’t in love with _him_. Tony was in love with some kind of version of him, maybe some version of him that existed years ago? And Peter couldn’t help it. He couldn’t help that he just wasn’t that boy anymore.

It hurt, but he knew it was the right decision. He was in love, but he couldn’t be with a man who couldn’t treat him like an equal.

* * *

As for Tony, well, Tony was in love too. And Tony accepted the rejection. He had moved _way_ too fast with the boy, and he got exactly what he deserved. He gave Peter all the space he could, treated him professionally whenever they had to interact, and generally behaved like an adult. Not at home, of course. At home he was a miserable wreck and barely functioning. But when Stark Industries called he suited up. When the Avengers called he suited up. Other than that he stayed in the dark, where it was safe. He let Peter save the world. 

* * *

Crime, however, knew nothing about their spat. Or, if it did, it didn’t care.

* * *

After two weeks of mutual misery they found themselves face to face on a rooftop in New York, the bad-guy-of-the-week defeated in the streets below. They agreed to meet back at the tower. To talk, they said. Certainly. That was all.

What they did could, technically, be considered talking. Certainly words were said when they came up for air.

“But you _can’t_ tell me I can’t ask for things in bed, that just isn’t fair,” Peter panted, his legs wrapped around Tony’s waist, _trying_ not to kiss the man (he needed his eyes to see his way to the bedroom.)

“Baby I’ll lay the whole _Kamasutra_ down for you like a menu and let you chose something different every night, twice a night. That wasn’t it, baby, I swear… oh god.” 

He moaned as dropped Peter unceremoniously on the bed, gazing down at him helplessly. “Peter you… you damn millennials are so good at talking about your _feelings_. I can’t… I’m just _outgunned_ here, baby.”

“Yeah, well, you’re a genius, right?” Peter said breathlessly, yanking Tony down onto the bed and helping him out of his pants. “ _Genius_ your way out.”

* * *

Afterward they lay side by side, catching their breath, the sweat cooling on their bodies. “The _Kamasutra,”_ he was murmuring. “I’ll go to other plan _planets_ and they’ll go through it page by page. Anything you want, baby.” 

“But it has to be _your way_. That’s the _problem_ , Tony. I love you, but I can’t… if we’re not equals in this, the deal is off.”

It hurt, but it felt right. It was honest. He headed toward the shower. He wanted Tony to say something, anything, to keep him in the room. There was nothing but silence. He let the silence speak for itself.

He was standing inside his shower when Tony burst in, excited.

“I CAN!” He exclaimed, and Peter’s heart leaped. He recognized _that_ look. “I can, I _can_ genius my way out of this! 

“But you won’t like it.”

* * *

“No… hear me out… _hear me out… no **hear me out**_!!” Tony begged as Peter ranted and railed and paced and shouted while gesturing dramatically. “FRIDAY records everything, it’s not just the security cameras Peter, you know she records everything that happens in the lab _I told you this_ years ago!”

“This is _different_ Tony!” 

“ _Please_ baby, I never accessed them, I never watched them I swear. Ask FRIDAY. But I couldn’t delete them… how could I delete them, knowing that any day you’d call it quits and leave me…”

“Well how the hell is that supposed to make me feel, Tony? You had already decided that I was going to leave you…”

“But you did leave me!”

Peter pulled up short. 

He felt ridiculous, standing here naked and still dripping from the shower, pacing around the bedroom lecturing his naked boyfriend (dry, because he hadn’t showered yet) about informed and dubious consent. Besides, he was just making noise. Making noise to drown out a little piece of information that was forming in the back of his brain…

“…and then I couldn’t stand to access them, just because I knew it would hurt too much. But I couldn’t stand to delete them, either, because they were all I had of… what?” 

Peter was looking sheepish. Finally he stopped fighting the smile he was trying to hide.

“So what you’re saying,” he said guiltily, “Is that there is a Tony Sex Tape out there now… one that I _haven’t_ seen… _and I’m in it_.” He didn’t say the rest. Didn’t confess that for so many years of his life he had daydreamed about saying that sentence out loud.

“Okay, you’re right. I knew about FRIDAY. Yes, you did tell me, I just never put 2 and 2 together to get … a sex tape… staring _me_.” He couldn’t help it. Years upon years of late-night fantasies under a Star Wars-blanket covered bottom bunk were crashing down on him now. 

A Tony Sex Tape. Starring Peter Parker. He was fighting off the giggles. But all he could _say_ was… 

“Am I hot?”

“What are you… are you kidding me with this? You’re like an old man’s wet dream come true. I’m the one all scarred up and soft in the middle.”

“Fine, you win. I’ll hear you out. But… so far this does not sound like a genius solution to anything.”

They sat on the bed to watch the playback. Soon sitting led to snuggling, and soon snuggling led to snuggling under the covers as Tony showed Peter examples of the things FRIDAY had recorded. Peter had never seen himself naked on film before. Tony declared that a tragedy. Finally they came to the night in question. Peter tucked his head into Tony’s shoulder as they analyzed it together.

“ _There_!” Peter said triumphantly, finally. Except it didn’t feel triumphant at all. “It was right then, Tony,” he said quietly, pressing against his lover. Watching the two of them from FRIDAY’s perspective was an incredible turnon, and he was this close to tabling the entire conversation for that very reason. But this was important, and he had to make himself understood.

“You can’t see your face from here, but _I_ could see it, and you turned _cold_ , Tony. Your jaw got hard and your eyes narrowed and… and we were in the middle of it and I didn’t ask you to stop. But that’s where it happened. I asked you to talk dirty to me and you turned on a dime. You shut down and… and I was sitting in the lap… I was _riding the cock_ of a completely different person.

“And I don’t know why… I don’t know why _I_ don’t get to ask for the things I want in bed. That’s why I was pissed. That’s why I broke it off.”

Tony considered this information silently for a moment. Tony waved the display screen away and pulled his young lover close.

Under the cover of darkness they talked. Tony told him the story of masks and armor, about what it was like to be naked, about what it was like to be _exposed_. They spoke long into the night and into the early morning hours. Spoke of the times, and the ways, to defend themselves. Talked about the times a person was accessible, and when a person was assailable. About how it felt to be defenseless.

It was dawn, almost morning, when they agreed that they could try it all again. Try to develop code-words, their own language (just like they had done naturally the lab, just like they had done extensively on the battlefield) to describe the things they wanted, the things they needed, and the things they couldn’t do. Finally they agreed they both needed sleep.

Tony was actually nodding off when Peter made his admission. How his entire sex education had been gained by watching pretty boys (and semi-pretty boys) on a screen, but had never thought of himself as one. He didn’t exactly get around to revealing his most secret, shameful fantasy. To be the pretty boy in Tony’s secret sex tape. He tried, he had actually opened his mouth to explain it… only to realize, quite suddenly and acutely, what Tony had meant by _exposed_.

He covered by changing the subject.

“Tony, why does FRIDAY only record from one camera?”

“Why would she need more than one? The microphones are the point.”

“Well… if she had more than one camera she could have different… angles… “

Tony’s eyes didn’t open, but his eyebrows went up.

“What are you suggesting, sweet boy?”

“Well… I just mean… for the next time it’s not… it’s not very sexy just looking at the top of our _heads_ …”

“The _next_ time?” 

But Peter just grinned.


End file.
